


Our Own Worst Enemy

by Engiffyserce



Series: Clea AU [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Clea AU, First Person, Multi, Other, Pain, Violence, mad king au, mentions of torture, third person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 21:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1702379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engiffyserce/pseuds/Engiffyserce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: 'AHot6 amnesiac Ryan!'<br/>Prompt: 'AHot6 Mad King Ryan'</p><p>My name is James Ryan Haywood, or more commonly known as HaywoodJRME005RT, or so I come to understand. Thirty-three years of age, a man of wit and timing, someone who can control fear and pain and inflict it on others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Own Worst Enemy

_My name is James Ryan Haywood, or more commonly known as HaywoodJRME005RT, or so I come to understand. Thirty-three years of age, a man of wit and timing, someone who can control fear and pain and inflict it on others. I am—_

_No, that word is too good for me, or so I’ve been told._

_I was the trusted lead Medic of the Achievement Hunter branch of the RoosterTeeth Sector in a place so known as the Harlem Quintels, or HQ for short. I was the go-to-guy for advice and help and conversation and jokes and—_

_And a lot of things. But, I guess you could say I really lost it all. I—didn’t mean to, I think, anyways._

           _Just give him time to wake up, Gav, buddy. He’s been through a lot._

            **Have I?**

      My name is James Ryan Haywood, or more commonly known as HaywoodJRME005RT, or so I come to understand. Thirty-three years of age, a man of wit and timing, someone who can control fear and pain and inflict it on others. I am—

      No, that word is too good for me, or so I’ve been told.

      I  _was_  the trusted lead Medic of the Achievement Hunter branch of the RoosterTeeth Sector in a place so known as the Harlem Quintels, or HQ for short. I was the go-to-guy for advice and help and conversation and jokes and—

      And a lot of things. But, I guess you could say I really lost it all. I—didn’t mean to, I think, anyways.

            _Maybe it would have been better if you had killed him, Ray. It would put less pain on Geoff, Gavin, and Jack._

             **What have I done? Why would Ray…**

      Maybe your curious on what I’ve done? Well, in jest, I tried killing my five ex-boyfriends, unknowingly. I’ve come to find out through the youngest ex screaming at me, the people I love so much suffered brutally through my own hands.

             _You fucking don’t remember anything! You took Gavin and strung him up like a pig for slaughter. You beat Michael to a fucking bloody pulp and forcing him to watch us suffer. You took metal wires and pulled them from Geoff’s wrists to fingertips so you could shadow play song we chose to be our song on the piano. You stripped Jack of all his clothes and whipped him over, and over, and over again. You—you tortured me by dislocating different joints and burning me with metal spikes. And you watched us with content and pure joy!_

_I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!_

_But, I guess I wouldn’t expect to feel anything different for a cheater, liar, and lunatic. All hail the Mad King Ryan, right? You asshole._

            **I-I would never—**

      I also found out through the ones who still love me, the ones who believe what happened, that I didn’t remember anything after they broke the connection between me and Edgar. The one controlling the whole show. Jack tells me that all that happened wasn’t and isn’t my fault, although I know it must be to some extent.

            _He reconnected with you, Rye bread. He took all your control away and used you for his own personal gain. We know you tried fighting it. We know you couldn’t do anything about it. It’s okay, we still love you._

          **I love you all, so, so much.**

      A couple days later, I also found out that I’ve been in a coma for a month. The only thing keeping me alive, physically, is life support. Michael sat next to me, bitterly telling me all about that part of it.

     _You know, Geoff still tries to convince me that it was Edgar’s fault that you did those things to us. And I guess I can go along with it, but it still doesn’t help that when I look at your ugly mug I can only think of how stone cold you were as you listen to us scream endlessly. It’s been a fucking month since you’ve seen us, and still I think you can’t remember those horrible, painful fucking moment, but can relive the more precious you had moments with us, I hope. Let me tell you something, you motherfucker, it’s been the only thing keeping me from officially breaking up with your ass and pulling your plug. I wish I could talk for everyone when I say that, but I think Ray can’t wait to kill you off and Gavin thinks everything will go back to the same place when and if you wake up. But I guess with your amnesia, you won’t be able to even remember who is talking to you, right?_

_Maybe it’ll be the day when I stop crying and hoping and waiting for you to be you. I’d love to hate you, Ryan, but I just can’t._

          **I won’t forget. And it’s okay to hate me. You have every right to.**

      I think it would be better if I did die off. It wouldn’t hurt them as much, I think. Ray would be content and move back to his Tribe, Gavin could move forward and go back to being prince of the Southern Volcanic Ridge in the Fire Ring, Michael could hate me and marry Gavin and Geoff and Jack and Ray like he said he wanted to do, Geoff could lead the Hunters like he always has and Jack could say I love you to the others without hesitating like he does now.

      I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to die from pulling the plug? People fall asleep and then pass away, right? Maybe if Ray could just sneak in one time on some rage filled stupor and rip the cord out of the electrical socket, it’d be all over?

           _Ryan? It’s me, Gavin. I want you to know, that when you wake up, we won’t hate you. We love you and just want you back, okay? Soon would be top. I think Ray is really missing you._

           **I doubt I can, Gavin.**

      Maybe it’s time to give up. I don’t know how to wake up, so what can I do? It’s just—

      So dark. It’s always been really dark.

      Maybe if I could find the light.

      Maybe if I think of my five boys. The loves of my life, the lights of my life. God, just please let me see their faces one more time. I’d give anything to see them, just—

                  Please.

* * *

 

"Ryan?"

      Ryan’s head was spinning as he opened his eyes to a blurry, white ceiling. The lights were too bright and the the room too cold. There was an annoying beeping and a lot of machinery parts moving around him.

"Ryan!"

      The Haywood’s vision came into focus and four equally shocked, excited, and nervous faces stared him down. There was Gavin, eyes bright and lips pulled back into a broad grin. Ugly and fading bruises lined his neck and exposed arms. Ryan could only guess there were more of those under his clothes. Michael’s pale complexion was blotchy and his skin was scabbed and scarred. His eyes were as dark and heated as burning coals. Jack’s smile couldn’t have gotten any bigger as he leaned forward from his slouched position. His shirt pulled just enough that Ryan could see the either stitched up or scabbing wounds covering the Engineer’s back. Geoff had a crossed, but relieved vibe about him. Like his pain and anger lay close outside the room. His hands were lightly bandaged and splotched in crimson around his fingernails as if he had been ripping at the skin. The were all equally exhausted and equally overwhelmed in their own ways.

"Hey," Ryan finally managed, voice like sandpaper and music to the other’s ears. His eyes watered as he looked between the four. But, something—

      No, someone was missing. “Where’s Ray?” The room was silent as glances were exchanged. Ryan knew where he wasn’t. He wasn’t here and hadn’t been here for a while, if he remembered correctly.

"Right here, you prick," A new, yet all too familiar voice growled. Clear and piercing dark eyes locked with Ryan’s cloudy blue ones. "I’ve always been right here." Ryan swallowed thickly as the Narvaez stormed up. He could see the bruising and burns peppering the younger man’s exposed skin. The Medic flinched, fully expecting a rightfully owned fist in his face.

      Except, he found weak arms wrapped around him and a sobbing boy on his chest. Ray’s sobs wracked his small frame and pale face buried in the hospital gown Ryan wore. “Why did you wait so long to answer my pleas?”

                  Pleas?

            _Ryan, please wake up. I didn’t mean any of what I’ve said. I can’t do this without you. I can’t live without you. I love you and you know that. Please, I’m begging you, come back to us! Don’t leave me, leave us._

_Hi Ryan, I’m back. I know I started crying like a bitch at the end yesterday, but I’m okay. Just wake up, okay?_

_It’s me again. Please wake up._

_Wake up._

_Wake up._

_Wake up!_

_God, I’m begging you. Just, let Ryan live._

                  Oh my god.

"Oh, Ray," Ryan mumbled, petting his hair. "I’m so, so sorry."

 

* * *

 

      My name is James Ryan Haywood, or more commonly known as HaywoodJRME005RT, or so I come to understand. Thirty-three years of age, a man of wit and timing, someone who can control fear and pain and inflict it on others. I am—

      No, that word is too small for what I am, or so I’ve been told.

      I _will always be_  the trusted lead Medic of the Achievement Hunter branch of the RoosterTeeth Sector in what a place so known has the Harlem Quintels, or HQ for short. I was the go-to-guy for advice and help and conversation and jokes and—

      And I’m the lover and love of five beautiful men who stay with me through thick and thin. Who loved me even as I became my—our—own worst enemy. I’ve forgotten many things, even the bodily harm I caused them, but something I cannot forget—

                  Their love.


End file.
